


Ballad of the Giants: Canto de Banana

by raisedbymoogles



Series: Ballad of the Giants [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen, Yiga OC, the autobots' shitty security procedures, the plot arrives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 05:21:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19244659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raisedbymoogles/pseuds/raisedbymoogles
Summary: Of course, things are never that simple.





	Ballad of the Giants: Canto de Banana

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gemma_Inkyboots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemma_Inkyboots/gifts).



> Birthdayfic for my wife, only slightly belated. <3

The excavation of the alien vessel from the Tabantha Cliffs was such a monumental undertaking that the Sheikah technicians overseeing the project hired Hylians by the handful from villages across the region. The majority of those who answered the call came from wheat-farming families who at least fancied a _different_ sort of backbreaking labor, and were far more familiar with hoe and sickle than hammer and chisel, but they were trainable. The Sheikah were desperate enough for laborers that they didn’t quibble at anyone who showed up.

The accursed Sheikah were fools.

Born of the Yiga clan, Ryohga had spent the last few years ingratiating himself among the Hylians and Rito who lived in Tabantha, and he had several useful dupes now who would have vouched for him if he’d needed it, but when he showed up the Sheikah just handed him a hammer and pointed, so he might as well not have bothered. Ryohga took out his frustrations about the wasted labor on the rock matrix surrounding the alien ship, telling himself that this was _all the more reason for The Great Lord Ganon to come and cleanse the world in fire!_

“Oho ho ho-! - oh.”

The Hylian working nearby was giving him a wary look, and Ryohga realized his inside thoughts had escaped him, _again._ “Oho - oh! Ow!” he cried, theatrically shaking his hand. “Ow, my thumb! I hit my thumb with the hammer!”

He saw the Hylian relax. “Take a break, friend, sounds like you’ve been in the sun too long,” she said.

“You know, I think I’ll do that. Ow,” Ryohga added for good measure, and departed, leaving his falsely-accused hammer behind.

At the very least, it was a lovely day to turn big rocks into smaller ones while one plotted the downfall of Hyrule - warm yet breezy, not a cloud overhead to threaten the workers with rain. Ryohga sat under one of the many rest tents pitched around the site and observed the comings and goings, Hylians pounding away like industrious little ants, Rito flying water and supplies back and forth, and - down in the valley - a wondrous sight, metal men taller than Hinoxes wandering about and talking with the Sheikah in charge of the whole project. The tallest metal man among them had a passenger on his shoulder, his head tilted patiently as she chattered with fluttering hands. _Zelda, princess of Hyrule,_ just a few years younger than Ryohga himself and already showing signs of becoming just as beautiful and beloved as her mother had been. Had Ryohga had one of the Rito’s famously accurate bows in hand he could have rid the world of her light then and there.

He didn’t, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste. He picked his way down the pebbled slope, as casual as you please, until at last he could hear the Princess’s voice bright and enthusiastic above the din of work and of the metal men’s footsteps.

“We’ve already found a trove of these Guardians below Hyrule Castle itself,” she was saying. “Ten thousand years old and they operate as if built yesterday! If your people use the same power source as they do, you could presumably stay active as long as you pleased using the same power source.”

“Certainly, we are eager to determine if that is the case,” her companion agreed, and Ryohga had to brace himself a moment. The tall red and blue being sounded the way he imagined Great Lord Ganon Himself must sound, sonorous and powerful. “Even if we cannot, I hope our studies of these Guardians may be of some use to you when this ‘Ganon’ arrives.”

“Oh, I do hope so,” Zelda sighed. “I must tell you, Optimus, I wish we had met under better circumstances. I wish we didn’t have to ask you to aid us against Ganon. There’s so much I want to learn from you, but this - this _curse_ casts a shadow over everything.”

Her voice actually threatened to break as she spoke, and Optimus paused to reach up to her, letting her grasp one of his fingertips in lieu of holding her hand. “I will not abandon you in your hour of need,” he swore, his voice so unshakeable that it made even Ryohga’s heart skip half a beat. “Not when you were there for us in ours. If a way exists for us to help you defeat Ganon and save your people, we will find it. Don’t be afraid.” Ryohga saw Zelda summon a brave smile. “If necessary I will wake the Decepticons as well, and double our strength against Ganon.”

“But aren’t they your enemy?” Zelda asked. “The other Autobots spoke as if they were to be feared.”

“They are, and in all honesty I hope that we can leave them right where they are in the depths of the Ark,” Optimus answered. “But if it becomes necessary, I will wake Megatron myself, and whatever it takes to get his aid, I will count it worth the cost.”

...well, that was interesting.

*

It took another week of pretending to plink away at the rock before Ryohga could put his plan into action. The metal men seemed to have an intense interest in stargazing, and a meteor shower drew most of them out of the Ark to gaze upward at the spectacle. Ryohga donned his stealth gear and took advantage of their inattention to slip inside.

He’d seen most of the Ark that was uncovered by the rock from the outside, nothing natural in its smooth curves and regular shapes. The inside was much the same, the walls slick enough to prevent climbing and the angles sharp and precise. Walking through the vast halls, Ryohga found himself thinking, _ancient Sheikah technology._ It was probably foolish to connect his people’s stolen heritage with this strange structure, but it was all he could think of: alien, yes, but - perhaps not out of reach of his understanding. If he had the will to grasp it.

Ryohga rather thought he did.

“-should get some rest, Red.”

“Perhaps you’re right, Inferno. I just find it hard to cycle down here, even the _atmosphere_ is alien...”

-but perhaps not quite yet. Ryohga leapt for cover just as a pair of the alien giants passed by, the taller one with an arm slung over the smaller’s shoulder. They passed by, and Ryohga let out his breath and moved-

“-what was that!?”

“What was what?”

Ryohga held his breath, and at length the smaller one’s shoulders relaxed. “...nothing,” he said. “Clearly an artifact of a processor in need of defrag.”

“Well, let’s go take care of that.”

As the pair continued down the hallway, Ryohga relaxed by degrees, resisting the temptation to let his breath _whoosh_ out. He also resisted the temptation to step around the corner and watch the two metal men leave - somehow, seeing the hallway used by the beings of the scale it was _made_ for, the space didn’t seem quite so alien.

Which meant only good things for his mission, he was sure.

Finding his way _down_ was the difficult part, but after judicious searching with the famed Yiga tenacity Ryohga found a sealed doorway that seemed to lead deeper into the giants’ vessel. The door itself dwarfed him, defying even the thought of trying to open it even if Ryohga had been willing to try - he was too wary of any potential booby traps to make the attempt. If beyond this door was an enemy even the giants feared...

...well, then the giants feared a breach from the other side, from beings their own size, none of whom had the skill of a fully-trained Yiga! Ryohga pressed his palms to the door, trying to judge its thickness, then stepped back and clasped his hands before him, muttering a short mantra under his breath.

Reality went red, then went _pop,_ and just like that Ryohga was on the other side. He dashed for cover, _just in case,_ but no traps sprung to life where he’d been. The hall remained dark and silent as the grave.

“Hah,” Ryohga whispered into the darkness. “The metal giants clearly haven’t reckoned with someone who can _teleport!_ ”

And so it was Ryohga lit a torch and ventured further, feeling terribly pleased with himself, until he turned a corner and came face to face - well, face to lower torso - with a sleeping god of destruction.

It was slumped, its hands open, its jaw slack; yet as its sightless eyes reflected the red torchlight Ryohga could almost believe it was awake, and saw him. For a moment he thought of turning back, but he took a deep breath and stiffened his resolve. It would take more than darkness and imagination to stop the Yiga!

The being’s metal skin was gray as stone, or a sword. From the broadness of its chest and the sleek length of its legs he thought that this being might be a match for Princess Zelda’s friend in height. On its arm, a black length of what Ryohga understood to be a cannon, though it was like no cannon he’d ever heard of. Did the being simply lift its arm and rain destruction on its enemies? “You are more than a giant, my friend,” he murmured. “You are a living weapon!” The black eyes glittered.

Moving on, Ryohga found what he could only assume were its fellows: beings nearly as huge and impressive, in a diversity of form and apparent function that put him in mind of the diversity in Hyrule: Hylians, Zora, Goron, Gerudo and Rito. _Rito_ was the word - some of the beings had what could only be _wings,_ and though it beggared his imagination to picture those massive creatures soaring through the sky he could only assume they could do so. How marvelous - destruction raining upon the Yiga’s enemies from above! Why, all he had to do was...

Was...

....huh.

He hadn’t really thought that far ahead. He knew that the Princess had accidentally activated some sort of healing device; he even knew roughly where it was, from his careful gathering of intel. He had little idea how she’d managed it, and even less how he was meant to bring one of these massive creatures to the device. Yet the Princess was only an ordinary girl; to his knowledge she had displayed no powers as of yet. If she could do it, so could Ryohga.

He walked back to the beginning of the chamber, stood before the gray giant once again. “Er... hello?” he tried, his dying torch uplifted toward the giant’s face. “Awaken, in the name of the Yiga!”

The name of the Yiga didn’t work. Neither did shouting, jumping up and down, or kicking its ankle. Ryohga huffed and sat down on the giant’s foot, crossing his arms, balancing on that fine line between contemplation and _sulking._ “Even if I ate a hundred bananas I wouldn’t have the strength to move this metal monster,” he muttered aloud. “What am I to do?”

In desperation he jumped up and began to pace about again, peering into every shadow for some inspiration. Although the gray giant was the largest, the others weren’t much smaller, towering over him even sitting slumped against the walls as they were. “Lord Ganon,” he muttered, “grant me your sight!”

At the back of a chamber was a giant that resembled nothing more than a crate on legs. Next to it, something small. Something small with _wings._

Ryohga crouched by its side, holding his breath. Put out a hand - touched the wing - gave it an experimental shove. The birdlike creature rocked where it lay.

“Ah,” he breathed. “Ah! Yes! You I can transport!”

He straightened and clasped his hands. Red light gathered around him; for a moment he felt weightless, as though reality wasn’t quite sure what to do with him. Then the light flashed and died and he fell back down to earth with a bump, ringed with bananas.

He scooped up an armful with a - rather undignified - chortle of glee. “For Lord Ganon and the Yiga!” he declared to the sleeping giants, and chowed down.

*

The Autobots’ sentries had their focus outward, on the surrounding countryside; thus, when trouble erupted from _inside_ the Ark, they were woefully unprepared.

“Get down!” Windcharger’s reflexes at least had not been dulled by their ten-thousand-year nap; he tackled Bumblebee down just ahead of the roar of flight engines carrying what sounded like the entire Decepticon armada past them. Three individuals, five, twelve - it _was_ the entire Decepticon armada, they realized at the same time, and that meant _something had gone terribly wrong._

(They almost didn’t register it at the time, but amidst the clamor of engines there was a thin, high voice, the howl of an overexcited organic: _“Yigaaaaa...!”_ )

Bumblebee was already yelling into his comm, leaving Windcharger to stare at the scene ahead: the Decepticons hanging in the sky in much the same way their ship didn’t (anymore), breaking up the predawn light, frightening the Hylians and Rito leaving their camp tents to gawk; Megatron exhorting his troops into formation in a hoarse bellow, and - he had to zoom in to be sure - one of this world’s little flightless natives, hanging from Laserbeak’s claws but not appearing to be in any distress. _What on Cybertron...?_

Autobots began to flood out of the ark - _thank Primus,_ Windcharger had feared the worst - but Megatron didn’t turn until Optimus Prime himself thundered out, rifle in his hands. _“Megatron!”_ he roared.

Megatron gave Optimus a knife-edged grin. “Another time, Prime!” he answered, and at his gestured command, the Decepticons flew off before anyone, even Optimus, could summon the will to stop them. Not, of course, that Ironhide didn’t _try._

The Princess arrived as Optimus was still trying to stand his lieutenant down, breathlessly demanding an explanation; between Ironhide’s salty language, Optimus’s attempts to restore order and Red Alert’s self-recrimination Windcharger watched her piece it together. “Take me to where you were keeping them,” she commanded firmly, and Windcharger, perhaps feeling a bit of self-recrimination of his own, agreed to escort her.

The door to the sealed chamber showed signs of attack from both sides, but Zelda’s attention was caught by some kind of discarded organic matter nearby. She knelt to gather it up. “What is it?” Windcharger asked.

“I’m not sure,” Zelda admitted, and this time the nascent command in her voice was entirely absent. She sounded, to Windcharger’s optics, _shaken._ “But if I’m right... I hate to say it, but my father must hear of this.”


End file.
